


Down the Rabbit Hole

by namtaenabi



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Bribery, Character Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, M/M, Nurses, Sick Character, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namtaenabi/pseuds/namtaenabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho’s parents had frowned upon him when he had dropped out of university, not even finishing his degree in science, to start studying to become a nurse. “A nurse?” his father had said, looking at him as if he had been crazy. “Men don’t become nurses”.</p><p>An AU about a developing relationship between two very different people: Minho is a nurse, Taehyun is his patient and this is their story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down the Rabbit Hole

Minho’s parents had frowned upon him when he had dropped out of university, not even finishing his degree in science, to start studying to become a nurse. “A nurse?” his father had said, looking at him as if he had been crazy. “Men don’t become nurses”. Well, that’s what he had said.  Maybe he had been right, maybe not. Minho had not cared at all at the time, nor had he changed his opinion since. At least this line of work seemed much more meaningful than counting stars or whatnot he might have ended up doing. He liked people, and people had always been very supportive of him in his life. Since he was lucky enough to have such luxuries, wasn’t it just proper to somehow return it to people who had less? Less, as in less time.

 

Most of the people Minho had worked for so far had had plenty of money and resources to ensure the luxury of a stay-in nurse, not to mention big enough of a house to give him a whole suite for himself. To go down last part of someone’s life was always difficult, but he found it very rewarding too. So many of these old men and women had lived such extraordinary lives, or they told the best stories from their past. A few of them had even been able to recall vivid memories from the Korean War, their hardships and their small moments of hope. It had also helped Minho become fully sure that he had taken the right career path. Numbers and formulas couldn’t possibly be as rewarding.

 

After adjusting the straps of his backpack a little bit, Minho furrowed his dark brows and looked at the worn note in his hand. This was the address all right, but it was nothing like what he had expected: the tall, stylish buildings with an almost mirror-like surface, the glass elevator and the way it stopped on the top floor. Then the metal doors had pulled aside and revealed that the only apartment on the floor was the one he was going to, in other words an enormous penthouse. Not at all what he had been expecting for an old, dying man living out the last days of his life. Up until now Minho’s regular patients preferred big, spacious houses in the countryside or at least a house with a garden.  Places with lack of stairs and easy access for health personnel to help them out if something happened to soon, or if damage that could be healed happened. This extravagant home seemed more like the ideal bachelor pen than the last home of someone.

 

Checking his note again Minho gave a shrug of his shoulders. What did it matter that this… this Nam Taehyun preferred a place like this over the more standard homes? The agency he worked for had said this was a special case and that he had been the closest one to fit the criteria of the request. Minho still didn’t know what those were, but he knew better than asking questions. Dying was a very personal business, and it was not a part of his job to judge. Rather, it was his job to help ease the patient’s final journey, be a good companion and make sure any last wish would be respected and hopefully carried out. And this was just another job, just another person needing company.

 

Closing the distance between himself and the door with a few determined strides, Minho lifted a hand and pressed the doorbell. From the look of it, it was the kind of doorbell with camera and everything, so he gave a little wave. “Mr. Nam? I’m here from the caretaking company?” he offered, suddenly feeling strangely underdressed in his grey scrubs that was currently hidden under a heavy, black winter coat and navy scarf. It didn’t get better either when the door opened and a pale, skinny boy with a perfect middle parting and slanting eyebrows clad in clothes with brand labels Minho had only seen on advertisement posters outside department stores.

 

“I’m here to see Mr. Nam?” he repeated to the boy, taking in the sight of him and wondering what he was doing there. The grandson maybe, or an unlucky son? They seemed about the same age, so if it was his father that was sick that would suck.  Minho had expected the boy to nod, possibly smile and then show him in. Instead the boy leaned against the doorframe and eyed Minho, obviously amused by the situation. Locks of his brown hair fell from behind his ear and he quickly reached up and ran a hand through his hair to push it back. “You’re looking at him.” Minho blinked. Looking at him? So definitively a relative then? “Ah, I’m here for Mr. Nam Taehyun? I am the new hospice nurse?” “And I am saying that I am Mr. Nam Taehyun.”

 

Oh.

 

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise and he could practically hear the wheelwork in his brain ticking. If this young man was Nam Taehyun then his new patient was not some grandpa dying of old age and the accompanying sicknesses. Far from it, his patient was a pretty young man with slanting eyebrows. A dying, _young_ man.

 

His classmates had talked about the difficulties of patients like this before, but he had always just assumed he wouldn’t be assigned to anyone like that. And in the case he would be, it would somehow work out and not be just as hard as they all made it out to be. But seeing the boy stand there with his strange smile directed at him, Minho felt something tug at his heartstrings. “O-of course!” he managed to stutter, giving a bow and stretching out his hand towards the other. Mr. Nam, or rather just Taehyun since it was strange calling him Mr. when they seemed the same age, just looked at the hand, but didn’t take it. And that’s when Minho first noticed the see-through, plastic line and the bandage around the boy’s slender hand. Not to mention the wheelchair that stood not too far from the doorway. How had he missed the sight of it? For someone who liked to call himself a professional, he had really done a poor job today.

 

“Nothing personal, I just get sick easily. You wouldn’t mind washing your hands first, would you? And closing the door on your way in, it gets cold.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Stepping inside, Minho was quick to close the door behind him and to pull off his coat and scarf. For someone thinking himself to be rather steadfast, he was strangely crumbling under the situation. So much that he hardly registered himself following the boy, who had returned to his wheelchair, brought him through the house only to stop outside a simple, white door. “This is your room. If you need anything, just let me know, and I will have them brought up for you,” Taehyun explained, the amusement that had showed on his face earlier now exchanged with what looked only too much like suspicion. He couldn’t blame him. Minho would have been suspicious too at such a ridiculous reaction. Professional my ass. Actually… he was the ass.

 

As soon as he closed the door to his room behind him, Minho dumped his backpack on the simple bed there and slipped into the little bathroom there to carefully wash his hands. Not until he had washed his hands a second time and then splashed some cold water in his face did he take the time to look around what would be his home for the next… however long he was staying. After running a hand over his eyes, he stared at his own reflection in the mirror and the image made him frown. After everyone he’d dealt with, some pipsqueak of a guy was going to get this much control over him? That wasn’t right. Since he’d been hired for this, he would do his job with the utmost care just like he always did.

 

* *

 

“Mr. Nam? I am so sorry about earlier, I got a little-…”

 

“Surprised?”

 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’m-…”

 

“Song Minho. I know, your papers said so.”

 

Minho stared at the boy. He had seen rather agreeable at first, but now he just came off as rude.  If he intended for them to work together in this, wouldn’t creating a good relationship be first in line of their tasks?

 

“And don’t call me Mr. Nam, it makes me sound old. And I’ll never be old, so… Taehyun is just fine. Also, can you drop the Doctor Stranger outfit? I might be sick, but I’m not a research subject in my own home.” Again Minho stared, but managed to give him a little nod. “Noted. No more Grace Anatomy, and no more formal speech. Does that mean I can lower my speech to you as well?” If Taehyun was going to be a sassy brat, he might just do the same. Just the fact that he was dying didn’t give him a free pass on being rude. “I must be older than you?” Minho continued, enjoying the slight shock in Taehyun’s eyes. Clearly he had not been expecting a reaction like this, but it didn’t seem like he hated it. This was, of course, based on the handful of minutes they had spent together before Minho had escaped to the safety of his new room.

 

“You are just a year older, so do what you please. But don’t expect me to call you hyung or anything of the likes.”

 

 “Fair enough,” Minho agreed with a little nod.  In spite of his initial surprise, things were slowly trying to settle now and he was pretty sure he could do a good job here. “So do you want give me the current play-by-play on how you do things here, or is there a paper on you I should read up on?” Hopefully he wasn’t being too rude. Had Taehyun been an old man, there would have been several more layers of politeness added to his speech. But since they had started off this way, might as well continue on the same track.

 

”23, recurring leukemia, stopped responding to treatments, six months left at the most. I don’t need the wheelchair, but my doctor advised me to use it to not wear myself out. Do you need more?” Taehyun’s brows were slanting so much they almost touched at the middle and something in Minho wanted him to reach out and run his fingers down them. It was cute? In a weird kind of cute that he could overlook for the sake of his job. ”I think that should be enough, thanks. We can work the rest out as we go?” he suggested, pointing at a file left by someone on the kitchen table and mouthing a ”for me?”. The other nodded and Minho picked it up, eyes scanning what turned out to be Taehyun’s medical journal. Without even noticing his brow furrowed at what he was reading, and when he finally put it down he felt a little pinch of guilt for not being nicer and overlooking the previous arrogance. Taehyun had a longer medical record than most of Minho’s previous patients even if he had only lived a third of their lives. By the looks of things, everything that could possibly be wrong with his body was: bad heart, often sick, hospitalized so many times it would probably have been faster to just write when he wasn’t in the hospital.

 

Why was someone like this here, alone in a big penthouse with only a hospice nurse by his side? Shouldn’t he be with family and friends? Old people without family and friends he could understand, but a twenty-three year old on his own like this hit him as strange. Turning his gaze to the dark haired boy again, he could see him instantly tense up in his chair almost as if he was preparing for an attack. Was he that worried about… whatever it was he worried about? Minho dug his hands into his pocket and gave a little shrug of his shoulders.

 

”One question though.”

 

”What?”

 

Why did he sound nervous? Did he expect something?

 

”Are you hungry, and how do you feel about pizza?”

 

Taehyun blinked and openly stared. Clearly not what he had been expecting? That was good. ”I’m not supposed to eat things like that,” he croaked, to Minho’s amusement.

 

”Oh, I don’t care about that. One pizza won’t kill you, and it’s easier to talk over pizza than a bowl of salad?”

 

It wasn’t a good argument, but it was a strange enough argument to catch Taehyun’s attention.  Just as Minho had felt rather intrigued by him, the boy’s curiosity had peaked enough to lower his weapons and accept truce for tonight.


	2. A Pool of Tears

“It went well,” was what Minho had told Taehyun’s physician when he had dropped by the other day and they had talked about their first meeting. “Well” might be to exaggerate a little bit, but it hadn’t gone particularly bad either. They had greeted, established a few rules for each other (more for him than for Taehyun), and then they had watched pizza and watched whatever drama was airing on KBS2 on Monday nights. Simple. Free of conflicts. The following days had had a few misunderstandings, but in his opinion they were getting there. It just took some time to get used to each other, that was all.

 

Like how Minho still had troubles adjusting to Taehyun’s absurd sleeping pattern where he’d stay up most of the night and sleep until long after noon. A big difference from the older patients he had nursed that got up at 5 AM and went to bed around 8 PM. It also took him quite some effort to remind Taehyun that he was _not_ his maid, but his nurse. How he would _not_ pick up his dirty laundry and wash it for him. Apparently the previous hospice has done all that? “He’s a grown man and can’t wash his own underwear…?” he grumbled to himself as he stared at the pile of dirty clothes left by the washing machine.  Being a damn maid had not been in his contract at all, even if things like cooking had been.

 

“Taehyun? You don’t have a minute?”

 

“Not really, why?”

 

He didn’t even bother to pause his game when replying? Minho shuddered and had to take a moment to calm himself. If his little sister had done something of the likes he would have yelled at her and complained about bad behavior.  But Danah would never be that rude, nor could he yelled at the little prince sitting in his gigantic bed, supported up by pillows as he blasted zombies on his too many inches big TV.  He ran a hand down his face and stared through his fingers towards the other man. One week of this, and he was already going crazy.

 

“We need to talk.”

 

Without even bothering with waiting for an answer, Minho marched into the room fumbled a bit behind the TV and then pulled the plug. As soon as the screen blacked out the boy on the bed howled out before turning his now dark gaze towards Minho. “What the hell do you think you are doing?!” he spat, his expression so upset that it almost felt worth it to pull the TV plug just to see it. Just almost. The anger snowballing onto that anger on the other hand made Minho doubt his actions.

 

“We need to talk,” he repeated, putting his hands on his hips as he tried to force back the grin that pulled at the corner of his lips. “Talk, as in I am not talking to your TV, I am talking to you and you are looking at me while talking. Like people do.” Clearly Taehyun was not of the same opinion, because he looked at Minho as if he was crazy.  “You need to start doing things like laundry and to keep your room somewhat in order. You’re a grown man, not a hormonal teenager!” To this, Taehyun just opened and closed his mouth, looking like he was at a loss of words. Had no one ever told him this much?

 

Not even caring to wait for a reply, Minho pushed aside the blankets and lifted the boy up.  He weighted much less than expected, but there wasn’t much time to think about that. Because as soon as he lifted the boy up, he started to twitch and kick, snapping things like “I’ll have you fired! How dare you?” Instead of answering, Minho carried Taehyun into the washing room and sat him down on the floor next to the pile of dirty laundry. “You are sick Taehyun, not helpless or dumb,” he said as he looked down at him. “I am not your maid, and I will not do your laundry. You can do that on your own.”

 

“I’ll get you fired for this,” Taehyun hissed, staring stiffly at the washing machine in front of him in order to not look at Minho. His whole body was rigid and his cheeks had been painted light pink in anger. Clearly he wasn’t used to being treated this way, and clearly it was about time someone did it. “I thought you were the one that hired me?” Minho mused, taking detergent and fabric softener from its shelf and placing it on the floor next to Taehyun. “But do it after you do some laundry?”

 

Somehow the sight of the detergent seemed to calm the boy on the floor down. He stopped flailing, and he didn’t even give a rude reply to what Minho had just said. Instead Taehyun just stared at the bottle of detergent with annoyance mixed with insecurity. It was just a bottle of detergent? Minho arched an eyebrow. Could this really be?

 

“You have done laundry before, right?”

 

“No. Should I?”

 

“You are past twenty and you live alone, is that even a question?”

 

Seriously, this kid… what else couldn’t he do? Despite being sick, it seemed like people had pampered him beyond belief because he oh so naturally just assumed that things would be done for him. Letting out a loud sigh, Minho bent down and pointed at the pile of clothes. “First thing you do is separate it by colors: one pile of light, one pile of dark. That much you can do, no?” Taehyun didn’t seem all that happy about doing what he was told, but the Minho’s words must have affected him in some way because he shifted over to sit on his knees and started throwing clothes in what soon became two small piles. His expression while doing it was almost cute. Minho wrinkled his brows. Cute? Had he really just thought that? Yes. How was it not cute? Those slanting eyebrows, eyes focused and he was biting down on his bottom lip while doing it. Hair was also falling into his face, making him want to lean in and tuck it behind his ear. It was only natural to think like that.

 

“What’s next?”

 

“What’s what?”

 

Minho looked up, having been so lost in his inner debate to justify his simple thought that the boy looked cute that he had no idea what to answer when Taehyun spoke. All he could do was give him a confused look before it suddenly dawned at him that the two piles of clothes had been completed.

 

“Earth to Minho? Do you have to be this slow?”

 

Nope, no. He had been mistaken. This kid was not cute at all, and that cocky grin on his lips was nowhere near endearing. What in the world had he been thinking earlier? “You put it into the washing machine of course,” he grunted, standing up again and walking to the washing machine.

 

“The button with the lock is for the door, but even you could figure that out, right genius?”

 

“I’m not slow, unlike you.”

 

This was starting to sound too much like an argument between middle schoolers for Minho’s liking. Rubbing his forehead, he waved the other hand at the pile of dark clothes. "Put them in, and then open the drawer to the side. Detergent goes in the biggest, fabric softener in the middle. A cap of each should be good." Again, he halfway expected Taehyun to not even bother with it, but the kid got up on his long legs and after fumbling a bit, did all he was told “Alright then. When that’s done, you put in the settings you want. 40 degrees should be about right, and this one has a special setting for dark clothes.” Without even thinking he reached an arm around the kid’s waist and showed him how to change the settings. It was harmless and done without further thought. And yet he still got another whiff of that sweet scent he’d smelled when he carried him, and still felt awkward as he pulled back. “Then you press the button and go.”

 

After Taehyun did as he was told, he leaned against the washing machine with a little sigh. “Are we good now? Can I get my medication?” Medication? Minho’s eyes moved to his wrist watch and widened at the sight. What a professional he was, not keeping the times for his patient’s medication and instead forcing him to do laundry. He might have felt somewhat bad if he hadn’t been so annoyed with Taehyun earlier.

 

“Of course. Do you want me to get your chair?”

 

“Just go get me water and my meds. It’s not like it’s a long walk back to my room.”

 

At least he wasn’t angry.  Minho had headed out to the kitchen without question and arranged a whole variety of pills in a little cup as well as finding a cup and taking a bottle of cold water out of the fridge.  He’d never forgotten the time like this before. It was even on his resume that he was very careful and punctual with time. What was getting into him? “What are you even getting so worked up over, Song Minho?” he muttered quietly to himself as he picked up the tray with water and the medication and walked back to Taehyun’s room.

 

“Medication for the master,” he joked, his words causing the boy on the bed to roll his eyes. Where he sat on the edge of the bed, he somehow looked much smaller and paler than he had earlier that morning and again Minho felt a jolt of guilt.  He’d just meant well with pushing him to do laundry, hadn’t intended to make him unwell. All he’d wanted was to… to what? What was it he wanted so much he forced these silly, everyday chores on a sick boy?

 

Minho realized his expression must have been rather tense, because Taehyun was staring at him, that cat-like grin back on his face. “It’s better you treat me normal than like I’m some silly porcelain doll that needs protection at all cost. Because I’m not.” The boy’s voice was firm as he spoke, and Minho felt rather awed by it. Where had that spoiled, whiny kid from before gone?

 

“Who are you, and what did you do to my patient?” Minho snorted, setting the tray down on Taehyun’s desk. After filling the cup with water, he grabbed it and the medications and held it out to the other.

 

“Should I be worried?”

 

“Nah, not until I batter my eyelids at you and try to flirt.”

 

Now, what was that supposed to mean? Flirt?

 

“You look hilarious when you get all serious, you know that? I’m pretty sure your eyes will disappear under your eyebrows!”

 

“Well, your eyebrows are going to slide off your face at some point. Just take your medicine already, won’t you? Stop making fun of your poor nurse.”


	3. A Caucus Race and a Long Tale

“Did you always want to be a nurse?” Taehyun rolled over on his side and looked at Minho. The boy’s face was as pale as ever, and if not for his dark hair he would have disappeared into the white sheets. It was hard to imagine that the boy he had bickered with over something as silly as laundry two weeks ago was the same as the one on the bed. Winter was the season for colds, and of course Taehyun with his non-existing immune system had gotten a cold border lining pneumonia. Being even sicker had given him trouble eating, and his coughing had been so bad his rib had gotten a slight fracture.  It seemed as if, just as Minho had first suspected, this patient of his was really made of glass.

 

“Not always. It was what I wanted when I finally found out what I wanted to be,” Minho replied slowly, scratching the nape of his neck. Talking about his personal life was not something he often did with patients, but Taehyun had this magical way of prying it out of him without even exerting much effort. “My parents always wanted me to do science, to make something big of myself. And for a long time I just went with it? It was easier to just study and not think too much?” He shrugged his shoulders and gave a faint smile. This really wasn’t any of Taehyun’s business. Just like it wasn’t his business to know how Minho disapproved of his sister’s current boyfriend and how he had had a dog named Doobu when he was a kid.

 

“Hmmm? Is that so? Somehow I can’t picture you doing science?”

 

“Neither could I.”

 

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

 

“Is that a compliment? From the little prince?”

 

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

 

Minho shook his head.  Sometimes they could talk and joke around as comfortably as they just had, and sometimes Taehyun was too distant and cold to get a single word out of him. A little over a month together, and it was impossible to really make out their relationship.  Relationship? For some reason Minho could feel his ears heat up and he turned away from the boy in the pretense that he was checking his IV drip. Why the heck was the world “relationship” making him feel weird? Would friendship have felt less… pretentious? It made absolutely no sense.

 

“How about my hopes for going to Yeoido for the Cherry Blossom Festival? And don’t bullshit me, just tell me the truth.”

 

Cherry blossoms? That was rather unexpected, but not unlikely. Taehyun had the weirdest preferences, and that flowers fit into that, somewhere between zombie killing video games and slow rock ballads. Minho looked over his shoulder, then turned all the way around and put a hand on Taehyun’s forehead. 

 

"If you stop going against me all the time… and promise me no more nights of sitting up playing video games then maybe.”

 

“Are you my mom?”

 

“No, you just asked for an honest opinion. Staying up and messing up your sleep pattern will do nothing to help you get better.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Minho narrowed his eyes. “Just like that?”

 

“Just like that.”

 

For a second Taehyun seemed to have more he wanted to say, but instead of speaking he buried his face in the pillow and coughed so hard his narrow shoulders shook. The sound pierced Minho’s heart and he almost felt guilty. It had been his idea to look at the full moon, his idea to stay out on the room late at night in the middle of winter. If only he had forced the boy to put on an extra jacket and brought an extra blanket, would he have been sick now?

 

Taehyun fumbled for the big glass of water on his bedside table and took a greedy sip of it. The coughing had painted small roses of red on his cheeks and he looked even frailer than he had just a minute earlier. “Humanity is curing cancer and doing heart transplants already, why can’t it come up with a quick and effective cure to the common cold?”  Minho didn’t answer, but filled up a spoon with cough drops and held it towards the boy. If he could take the cold for him, he would. Then again, Taehyun was more than just a little likely to catch his cold and get sick regardless.

 

“I’ll even go out in my chair as long as I can go,” Taehyun mused, making Minho all the more uncomfortable and nervous.  He hated going out in his chair, he had said that much before: one of the major reasons why he preferred to stay at the penthouse. People would stare too much, and he didn’t like to be reminded of how weak and sick he was. It made sense, but with all the distractions the outside world had to offer, Minho always found it strange that it was better to stay locked up and lonely. But if that was what he wanted, who was he to judge? He was not the one with an incurable disease, not the one who seemed to have given up on everything and everyone.

 

“Yah…”

 

“Hmm?” Minho looked up, confused for a moment.

 

“You’re doing that thing again.”

 

“What thing?”

 

“Thinking so hard your eyebrows might tie a knot in the middle.”

 

“Don’t start talking about eyebrows to me, Nam Taehyun.”

 

“Touché!”

 

Their eyes met, and not after long they were both laughing heartily at each other. The warm sound lifted the awkwardness that had started to creep in earlier, and Minho felt instantly better. The same could be said about Taehyun until his laughter turned into coughs and he hid his face against the pillow again. “No laughing,” he croaked from the depth of the white fluff and Minho nodded quietly in confirmation. No laughing. That meant he had to shove his want to make the boy smile up somewhere far away until he was better.

 

 _Not that he will ever be_ better.

 

His mind seemed to draw the conclusion on its own, and it made Minho want to take the book on Taehyun’s desk and knock it against his head. Not only because he made the mistake of forgetting that there was more than a cold that bothered Taehyun. But because the thought had deviously wrapped around his heart and squeezed hard. So hard it hurt. Attachment was a big “no, no”. And why was he still so worried about getting too attached to this squirt?

 

“Uhm… want me to go get you anything?” A slender hand appeared from the depth of the blankets and fumbled a bit in the air until Minho took it. It felt ice cold against his warm hand. Pulling up a stool to sit on, he gave the hand a little squeeze. “Fine. Staying then.” The back of Taehyun’s head moved and he was pretty sure the boy had just nodded. Another surprise, and another thing to add to the list of “reason why I don’t understand Nam Taehyun”.

 

“I moved here because I can’t stand the way they look at me.”

 

“What was that?”

 

Taehyun turned his head just a little bit and looked up at Minho. The face he was making was a new one, a new expression that couldn’t be read. But he looked determined enough to go through with whatever he had in mind of saying. In his time, of course. Minho’s words made him pause, and he looked at their now attached hands as if trying to figure something out. Whatever it was, he seemed unable to find the answer, and looked back up, their eyes meeting.

 

“My brother, my mom… they kept looking at me like I could die any moment. I wasn’t allowed to do anything at all. So I moved out. The condition was to get a hospice nurse and to have that nurse stay with me.”

 

With a little nod, the boy sat up a bit in bed. Then he reached out the hand not holding onto Minho’s to grab the glass of water.

 

“I can’t even remember how many I’ve had.  But they all looked at me and treated me like a porcelain doll, and it was suffocating me.”

 

Another pause, and it was now only too obvious that Taehyun was avoiding his eyes. Minho gave his hand a little, encouraging squeeze and almost willed the conversation to go on. He had no idea where it would go, but he felt like he would like wherever it chose to go.

 

“You’re the first one to treat me like a real person. And… and I just wanted to say that… I… appreciate that.”

 

As soon as the words were spoken, Taehyun let go of Minho’s hands and dived back in the pillow. Judging by his bright red ears, his face might be the same color, and it was hard not to laugh. Not because it was silly, because it absolutely was not even close to silly. But because the ice prince, the raja,  had just been utterly adorable, so how could he not smile?

 

“You… can’t you go make dinner?”

 

The voice that spoke was so quiet Minho barely heard, but he did. With a little nod that the boy clearly couldn’t see, he stood up and turned to leave, only to turn back to the bed. “Appreciation nodded. You’re not too bad yourself either, when you don’t throw stuff at me,” Minho said, his smile growing wider. And in what must be a moment of madness, he reached out and ruffled Taehyun’s brown hair.

 

On his way to the kitchen, Minho caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror, and the sight made him stop dead. What the-… was he blushing too? Instantly raising a hand to touch his cheek, he stared in mixed amazement and horror at his own reflection. There was no way this could be good. Holding hands, speaking about feelings... it only let one way, and it was the bad way. And on the topic of hands: his hand was still tingling from before. How could someone have such a delicate and cold hand?  Why didn’t hold on to it all the time to make sure it was warm?

 

“What… like you are going to be the one to do it for him?” Minho grunted to his own reflection. Who was he really trying to fool? The him that had liked this side of Taehyun, or the one that wanted to stay as far away from attachment and emotions as possible?

 

“That wasn’t even a long tale, Song Minho, not a long talk, not a long story you got! Stop imagining things and just go cook. Am I right? Yes I am.”


	4. The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill

Winter in Seoul had felt longer than usual; Low temperatures, unusual weather and a cold wind that had seemingly lasted forever. But it felt like winter was finally losing to spring, as days were getting both longer and warmer. Minho had even started dropping his scarf and heavy coat and exchanged it with his favorite vintage biker jacket. A birthday present from his sister once, the leather now perfectly worn and soft. It had even earned a thumbs up from Taehyun as the boy spotted him on the way out. Somehow knowing his patient liked it made made him feel a tad bit more confident wearing it too. Naturally, only because someone who only wore the most luxurious brands like Taehyun did would be bound to know when something was good or not.

 

The coming of spring must also have brought with it some sort of healing powers, because after finally recovering from his cold, Taehyun was healthier than Minho had ever seen him. He’d walk around the apartment for hours as if he was restless about something, would read more books than play his silly TV games, and he spent a whole lot of time hovering around Minho, asking him questions that really seemed none of his business.  Like yesterday, when he had started asking very personal questions about his personal life. Just remembering how the boy had sat on the counter, an apple in hand as he watched his nurse prepare for dinner.

 

“So do you have a girl you like?”

 

“I’m not sure that is any of your business?”

 

“A boy you like, then?”

 

Minho had been so taken aback by the second question he wasn’t sure if he was blushing out of embarrassment or anger. How could this kid just freely ask a question like that? It didn’t help at all that he was looking over with an expression of childish excitement mixed with teasing. What was his problem?

 

“I don’t have a girlfriend, if that’s what you want to know. Or a boyfriend, if you were wondering about that too. Geez, do you even have any limits anymore?”

 

The way the boy shrugged his shoulders made Minho expect him not to even bother answering, but as he turned his attention back to the kimchi jjigae he was boiling, Taehyun said something that made him want to go back in time and swallow his harsh tone.

 

“Why bother with limits when I am dying anyway?”

 

However he thought about it, there was not a good answer to that question.. More than that, Minho didn’t want to answer it or even think about it. He hated the fact that there was an undeniable feeling of attachment growing inside of him, and he hated that Taehyun could put him down with his words like never before. “That doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk,” was all he grunted, stirring the boiling soup harder.

 

There was also one day where Taehyun had started asking about how it felt for Minho to watch the person he was caring for wither away and die. He had been picking at details and feelings so much Minho had gotten so mad he’d just left for a good hour before going back. What had the boy even wondered about so much he would dig around for answers? What business was it of his how it felt to care for someone you knew would never get well? Minho’s father had also asked him that question once, and he hadn’t received an answer either. How did it feel? It felt horrible, sad and it was difficult. But at the same time it was touching and inspiring to see how many of those who knew they were doing but still lived life to its fullest to the very end. Their joy of achieving even the smallest things and their well-spoken words regarding life and death. But what they said was also very private, and Minho didn’t feel like sharing it, even with Taehyun.

 

Nor did he want to see his current patient go through the same only to close his eyes and never open them again. But he was not quite ready to accept that yet.  Somehow Taehyun was proving to be completely different, to call out feelings inside of Minho that he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to feel. He quickly shook his head and once again checked the note the boy had written him earlier:

 

 _1 can of whipped cream_  
1 box of strawberries  
1 big box of chocopies  
1 dark chocolate  
1 bag of jelly beans  
pick up a package for me at Hottracks

 

It was, if anything, the weirdest list of things he had gotten from any patient ever, but what could he do about it? What Taehyun wanted, he should get. It was just so completely random. Why would a boy who rarely ever craved sweets suddenly ask for cream, chocolate and strawberries? Minho couldn’t but roll his eyes as he put the strawberries in the shopping cart. No, he would never ever understand Nam Taehyun.

 

After not too long, Minho had paid for the food, picked up the parcel from a music store (why couldn’t the boy just get it sent to their place?), and was on his way back.  Out of all the things Taehyun had said or done the last weeks, today was clearly the weirdest. Why would he get all this, and refuse to come out himself? Was the promise to go to the cherry blossom festival that important to him?

 

“You’re late! Just leave the stuff in the kitchen and… uhm… go rest up in your room again.”

 

“I’m not tired tho? Why would I rest up? You go rest up.”

 

Taehyun’s brows furrowed and he pointed towards the door to Minho’s room. “Just to what I’m telling you! For once, just give me some time on my own.”

 

The sudden annoyance in the boy’s voice made Minho lift up his arms in front of himself and he gave him a little not. “Wow, yeah, okay. Calm down, will you? I’m going to my room alright.” What else could he do? No point working Taehyun up to get angry, because his health would have no benefits of getting angry. Still, it did feel weird to be the one to go back to his room.

 

Minho pulled off his jacket and let himself fall back on his bed. Why in the world was Taehyun acting so weird anyway? Rolling over on his side, his eyes fell on the calendar he had on his small desk there and his eyes widened a bit. Wait, it was Monday today? Monday 30th of March. “It’s my birthday…” he mumbled, fumbling a bit before he managed to pull his phone out of his back pocket. 14 missed calls and messages from his sister, his parents and a couple of his friends. Oops… He had meant to get today off (on Danah’s request) to spend some time home, but he had completely forgotten all about it. His patient kept him both busy and entertained, and when you lived with your work, days tend to blur into each other.   

 

Clearly it had taken longer to return the missed call and reply to the messages than he thought, because when Taehyun finally called his name two hours had passed. How had that happened? Rubbing his eyes, Minho rolled out of bed and headed in direction of the voice. Judging by it, the boy was in his room. A second “MINHO!” confirmed this, and he quickly headed down the hall to Taehyun’s room, pushed the door open and…

 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

 

He blinked. What was going on? Minho took a minute to take in the sight, but when understood just what was going on he almost choked up. There was Taehyun, a silly birthday hat on his head, the parcel from before in his hand only now it was decorated with a big ribbon. On his desk stood what looked like an attempted cake of chocopies and cream. It even had a few candles in it. The boy had even made a big poster with the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MINHO!”  that he’d put up over his bed.

 

“Y-yah, you…” Minho choked again, just stared at the boy.

 

“Yah? Aren’t you even a bit surprised? You are surprised, right?”

 

“Taehyun, you really didn’t have to-…”

 

“Of course I had! Dumbass, you didn’t even request a leave on your birthday! I had to do something!”

 

Minho couldn’t explain what had come over him, but Taehyun’s words touched him too much to stand still. With a few long strides he closed the distance between them and gave the boy a one-armed hug. “You know, a card would have been more than enough,” he managed to say, to which Taehyun pulled out an envelope from his pocket.

 

“There is a card too, but you’re not allowed to read it now. Read it later, okay? I also got you a present! You desperately need an upgrade from those crappy earphones you use. Where did you even get them? Underground mall in Myeongdong?”

 

Without another word, the boy showed the present and the letter into Minho’s hand, looking a bit like a puppy waiting for a reward. No point waiting with opening the present too then.  After he had slipped the card into his back pocket, Minho carefully unwrapped the box. The contents left him gaping and he was close to showing it back to Taehyun.

 

“These are expensive. Like, why would you get me something this expensive?” was all he could say as he looked over the box so painfully obvious containing a wireless beats headset. You shouldn’t just give something like this, least of all to someone who worked for you and received a monthly (rather huge) paycheck.

 

“You don’t honestly think that counts as expensive for me?”

 

“So now it’s a gift to boast your wealth?”

 

Taehyun looked a bit hurt by the comment and reached out his arms. “If you don’t want it, fine! Give it back and get no present on your stupid birthday!” Gosh, how cute the way his eyebrows slanted and his lip tightened was. Minho caught himself in smiling and instantly hugged the box closer. “I was just saying. No way I’m giving it back! It’s the first thing you’ve ever given me. I will see this as a step closer to making you a decent person.”

 

“I am a decent person.”

 

“So I can see!”

Minho smiled at Taehyun, then reached past him and whisked up some cream with his finger that he casually smeared onto the boy’s nose. “Now you look like a decent person!”

 

“Yaah!”

 

And somehow that was the start of a whipped cream fight that they both kind of regretted later when they had to clean cream off of most things in Taehyun’s room. (Yes, Minho made him help cleaning.) It had been both stupid and childish, but it had left them laughing for a long time after and it had felt more like a silly game between close friends than patient and nurse.

 

It wasn’t until hours later when Minho sat on his bed, about to lay back for sleep when he remembered the card. This had to count as later, right? He got to his feet and found his jeans to pull the card out, taking it out of its envelope on his way back to sit on the bed again. The card itself was simple, some flowers and a “happy birthday”. To be honest, he didn’t care what kind of card it was. Minho was more curious about what was written there:

 

 _ ~~Dear~~_ _To Minho,_  
Happy birthday! I bet you are surprised to get this card,  
but I really hope you will read it and feel… and understand.  
First of all, thank you for spending your birthday with me.  
You probably don’t even realize you are doing it, but you  
are, and I am thankful for it. Gosh, you are an idiot some  
times, do you know that? …anyways! Thank you again, and  
thank you so much for everything up until now. Somehow  
you are making me feel alive again, making me want to live.  
It means a lot to me, and I’m not good at showing it, but  
thank you. I feel like I should try to hold on just a little longer  
just to spend more time with you.  
  
Thank you.

_Taehyun._

 

Minho read the card again, and then a third time. Then he slipped the card back in its envelope and then carefully put it into his nightstand drawer. There was no understanding the boy called Nam Taehyun. But somehow it felt like that boy could perfectly well understand the man called Song Minho.


	5. Advice from a Caterpillar

“Minho? ….Earth to Minho? Song Minho?”

 

He jumped, shook his head and took a second to remember where he was. The dim light of the bar, the untouched glass on the table, the delicate hand lightly tapping at the table. Where was he? Focusing his gaze, he met his friend’s dark eyes, slight annoyance painted on the younger man’s face.

 

“Hyung, have you even been listening? Are you even here?”

 

Seungyoon had all rights to be annoyed, and all Minho could do was give him a little nod. No, he hadn’t been listening at all; his thoughts had been flying far away, to the other side of the river and to a certain rooftop apartment.  Something they clearly shouldn’t be doing, least of all when they finally had time to meet up and have a drink together. With him a hospice nurse that usually lived with his patients and Seungyoon just starting as a residency physician at Severance Hospital’s new cancer ward, they had close to no time to actually meet up.

 

“I’m sorry, I just… have a lot to think about these days.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

The way Seungyoon crossed his arms and looked over at him made it clear that he was not at all satisfied with that answer. Ever since they met in university the younger man had been able to call a lie or when Minho didn’t tell the full truth. And every single time, without any exception, he had pulled out the whole story.

 

“…Okay, I have _someone_ to think a lot about.”

 

“Aha! So that’s why you wanted to meet me!”

 

Seungyoon’s smirk was so annoying Minho was tempted to punch it off of him, but he held back.  He couldn’t go around hitting one of his best friends for catching him red handed.  Apart from just hanging out, he did have a goal behind the meeting, and without further ado he pulled a thick file out of his backpack and slid it across the table.

 

"Is it really a hopeless case?”

 

“That better not be what I think it is. You know there are laws about privacy and punishments for sharing of information like that?”

 

“…don’t read the name then?”

 

Was it really that important? Minho didn’t need an answer to the entire file; he just wanted a doctor’s opinion (one that he could trust at that). The bizarre idea that Taehyun could be saved after all hadn’t left his head since the night of his birthday.

 

_I feel like I should try to hold on just a little longer_ __just to spend more time with you.__

 

That was what the boy had written in his card, and the words still made Minho’s heart ache with a strange, dull pain. Seungyoon was one of his last hopes to try and do _something_ to help the kid. If he even would help, that was. Minho could see how his friend’s hand seemed to itch to take the file, but his high standards of morality and love for rules was clearly holding him back.

 

“Look, those old geezers at the best hospitals in Korea couldn’t figure it out, maybe the rising star at Severance can figure something out?”

 

“You won’t win this with flatter, Song. Not to mention that the truth doesn’t count as flatter.”

 

Minho rolled his eyes and finally took a sip of his beer.  Sometimes he had a hard time deciding if his friend really was as nice and righteous as he seemed, or just acted the part and was nothing but a sarcastic bastard. Could be either really, or perhaps simply both? Whatever he really was, the other finally grabbed the medical file and started flipping through it, his lips pursued and brow furrowed.  When he first opened it, Seungyoon seemed mainly uninterested, like he really was just doing this because he was asked. But as he went through page after page there was obvious fascination slowly becoming evident on his face.

 

“Two questions.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“One… how is this kid still alive? And two, isn’t he in a lot of pain?”

 

The words made something ache painfully in Minho’s chest and he couldn’t help his jaw from falling open. “He what-… and what?” Did his voice function properly? Or did it sound as broken to his friend as it did to himself? He had known that Taehyun wasn’t in good shape, but in pain? The boy never said anything out loud about being in pain, not a word. Sometimes he would excuse himself and sleep for an hour or two but that was it. As his nurse, wouldn’t he have told him? “He never told me anything.”

 

Seungyoon’s dark eyes narrowed and Minho could feel his stare burn into him. Obviously something was off, and sadly none of them were dumb enough to ignore it.

 

“Never? Not once?”

 

“Not since like… I don’t know, the first month or so?”

 

“Not since the first month.”

 

Judging by the tone of Seungyoon’s voice when he repeated Minho’s last words, he was thinking really hard about something. Yes, it was clearly really weird that Taehyun hadn’t said anything, but Minho had taken it as a kind of sign that the boy had gotten better. Was it such a bad thing to hope that not hearing anything from him meant that he had gotten a little bit better? Or at least not any worse? Minho wished he could honestly said it had been a reasonable thought, but the more he thought about it, the more it worried him. Had Taehyun been in pain without telling him? Had he just complained less to cover up when things got bad? What kind of nurse was he if his patient couldn’t even be honest with him?!

 

Had he taken a short break from self loathing, Minho would have looked up and found Seungyoon still looking at him, but with a completely different expression on his handsome face. Unlike Minho, he could see a little bit clearer since he was outside of the whole drama. Clearly something was going on, something than involved nurse and patient, and the trust and whatever more there was between them. Because clearly there was something there. Judging by Taehyun’s papers, he should be in enough pain to make any person complain, but when even his nurse hadn’t heard anything about it something was off. And what other reason could that be than not wanting him to worry?

 

“Just talk to him?”

 

Clearly not the most original suggestion out there, but Seungyoon was right. The best would be to talk to Taehyun about it even if it was a difficult subject to touch on. After the birthday party (or perhaps even since before that) they had just stopped talking about sickness related things and instead talked about each other. That was, Taehyun had dragged answer after answer out of a rather unwilling Minho who for some reason just couldn’t shut up. What did he know about Taehyun apart for simple things about his family, his music taste, his love for video games and that he was sick. Compared to stupid details like scars from kindergarten and even grades in middle school. What magic had he used to find out all of this? Minho considered himself a rather open and friendly person in general, but disliked to really open up to people. In private it was easier to deal with people with smiles and silly jokes than to actually open up about things.

 

“You don’t know how he can get sometimes…”

 

Seungyoon arched an eyebrow.

 

“True. But you do. So you’ll know what to say.”

 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

 

“Well, so what? You spend all day, every day together. Don’t come here and tell me you don’t talk at all! No excuse! You talk to him, and I will take some more time to look at these?”

 

He waved the medical file around a bit and Minho knew he couldn’t deny the deal. Fruitless work wasn’t Seungyoon’s style at all, since he was the kind that always wanted a result. Just a little result might be enough to give Taehyun some more time, or even change his fate. The boy’s current one just seemed so sad.

 

Several hours later, when Minho stepped out of the taxi and headed towards the familiar building where most likely Taehyun would be asleep right about now. The talk with Seungyoon had not had the calming effect he hoped it would, but it had opened his eyes up to some new sides of the relationship he had with Taehyun. Relationship? Was that even the right word? He stopped on the pavement, putting his hand to his face. Why did a word like that make him blush? “A relationship between two people”, there was absolutely no reason to blush because of a simple thought like that. What was he becoming because of this sickly, silly boy? Minho shook his head, tried to swallow his thoughts and quickly pressed the building password code before heading inside in direction of the elevator. Whatever happened, he'd have to talk to Taehyun. 

 

"You're back?"

 

Messy brown hair and a yawning Taeyun was what met him when he slipped through the door of the penthouse.  Despite being way past 3 AM, he was up? Or had he fallen asleep in the living room instead of his bedroom? That wouldn’t be a first time either. But there was something so happy and almost thankful in the boy’s expression that Minho didn’t have the heart to scold him (nor bring up topics from his talk with Seungyoon). Instead he quickly kicked off his shoes, took off his jacket and walked over to ruffle Taehyun’s hair.

 

“Do you or do you not remember what both me and your doctor said about sleep?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I just… forgot the time,” Taehyun mumbled quietly, combing his fingers through his hair. The way he yawned after speaking didn’t help convincing Minho that a certain someone had stayed up waiting for him.

 

“Well, no forgetting it now. Off to bed, and I don’t want to see you up until around noon. That’s when I plant to get up.”

 

He really was falling deeper and deeper without stop. A bit like how Alice fell without stop down the rabbit hole.


	6. Pig and Pepper

“Minho, wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

 

Minho let out a little groan and rolled over on his other side, pulling his blankets over his head. What was this voice trying to pull him out of the good dream he was currently dreaming? It was al nice and warm and fuzzy and they were covered in blankets and dark hair covered his pillow. Laughing words, soft fingers. Everything was nice and held a rare sense of peace he hadn’t felt in the longest time. Why was there a voice trying to pull him out of this?

 

“SONG MINHO, GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!”

 

Unlike the nagging, the yell literally kicked him out of his dream and he jumped up, looking around the room and trying to make out what was going on. The curtains of his window had been pulled back and soft sunlight filled his little room. Because of the sudden bright light he couldn’t even see who was standing there, holding his blankets and staring intently at him, but he quickly made it out.

 

“Taehyun? What’s wrong? Why are you yelling? Are you feeling sick?” he mumbled, trying to rub sleep out of his eyes with one hand while the other tried to flatten his hair that no doubt stood out in all directions.   _Taehyun_. Minho blinked and looked up at the boy, only to quickly look away with a sinking feeling in his stomach. What in the world was he doing thinking these thoughts? Actually, what was he doing dreaming such a dream? The hair on the pillow had just the same shade as brown as Taehyun, and no doubt if he looked at his fingers they would be the same too.  They had been _together_ in his dream, and however wrong he had been taught such things should be, it felt right. He also hadn’t worried about things like being sick or dying, in the dream they had simply been happy and peaceful. Why did such a reality seem so far away and so difficult to realize?

 

“You said we had to get up early to prepare food!”

 

The pout on Taehyun’s lips was absolutely adorable, and Minho had to look away. Again. Just because of one dream he was really becoming a hopeless nutcase. Was this how it was going to be from now on? One look, touch, or even simple word from his patient would make him a blabbering fool? He couldn’t let it affect him as much.

 

“Ah, yeah… I did say that, didn’t I?”

 

Minho nodded slowly, rather reluctantly pulling away his blankets and standing up. Getting dressed, taking a shower… things he should be doing.  Especially that last one, because standing in front of Taehyun in nothing but a pair of boxers made him painfully self-conscious.  It might be just his imagination, but was Taehyun looking rather shy about it too? And was that a blush he saw on those pale cheeks? He shook his head and quickly walked the few steps over to his closet to find something to put on.

 

“Go ahead and find the stuff we bought yesterday, and I’ll just jump in the shower and then be out? You can wait that long, can’t you?”

 

“Hmph! That depends on how long you take to shower!”

 

The only answer Minho bothered to give was a little grunt as he grabbed some clothes and pushed past Taehyun in direction of the bathroom. Maybe a shower was all he needed to wash away all these thoughts. There was no time to do it either, since he had to (as he had been so kindly reminded of) make food they could bring with them, and then they had to head off to the cherry blossom festival.

 

But a shower didn’t help. Nor did seeing Taehyun stand by the kitchen counter, brows slanting down as much as ever and wrinkling his nose confusion as he looked down at the food they had prepared the night before. How the heck had this kid survived on his own when he couldn’t clean, couldn’t cook and hardly seemed to know how to open a triangle kimbap from a convenience store. “Need help there, Oliver?”

 

“Oliver?”

 

How could someone look even more confused than Taehyun had looked earlier?

 

“Jamie Oliver. Chef? TV?” Minho threw out a couple of examples and wrinkled his nose too. Was he expecting too much by asking such simple questions? He figured everyone knew this, but maybe it was just knowledge he had acquired after sitting through a lot of TV with his older patients. That seemed more likely. Taehyun at least seemed perfectly clueless and just shrugged his shoulders and looked all the more confused.

 

“Just… forget it.”

 

After quickly rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands, Minho started putting out the ingredients in the most practical order. 

 

“Making this is no magic. I’ll show you once, and then you can try it too? Does that seem okay for you?”

 

Taehyun didn’t seem all that convinced by Minho’s words, but he nodded nonetheless and rolled up his sleeves as well. Thankfully this wouldn’t be a complete retake of the whole washing machine incident or the changing of bed sheets incident. Both had happened a while ago, and both had made Taehyun so mad Minho had worried he might make himself sick, dumbass that he was. Dumbass? Really? He furrowed his brows at his own childish thoughts while carefully laying out rice on the sheet of roasted seaweed. Since when was Taehyun a dumbass, and since when was he using such a word?

 

“Spread it out evenly like this, and then take vegetables and meat and put it diagonally like this. Then you roll it up and you’ve got a kimbap. Not too hard, is it?”

 

His smile didn’t seem quite enough to fully encourage Taehyun, but again the boy just nodded without a word of complaint and clumsily started to repeat what he had seen Minho do earlier. Clumsily might be an understatement, and the tightening of the boy’s lips was a warning signal telling Minho he might just explode soon.

 

“Look, do it carefully, okay?”

 

Without even thinking, Minho stepped up behind Taehyun, slipping his arms halfway around him to reach out and help guide the boy’s hands.  They carefully placed the vegetables, just as they rolled it into a not too perfectly shaped kimbap.

 

“Yaaaah! It looks nothing like yours!”

 

The complaint was only natural, and Minho had to smile at the predictable response. However he froze when he was no longer looking at the back of Taehyun’s head, but his face.  For the longest five seconds in Minho’s life they were just staring at each other. Both swallowed almost simultaneously, both too nervous to keep looking, but too caught up in the moment to look away. He could feel Taehyun’s hot breath against his skin and something deep, deep inside him made him lean in just a little bit closer.  Who knows what would have happened if Minho’s phone hadn’t chosen that moment to notify an incoming kakaotalk message.

 

Both men jumped a bit and Taehyun instantly turned back towards the half-finished kimbap. The normally so self-confident air about him seemed to have temporarily disappeared, and Minho could probably say the same thing about himself. The sudden closeness, and realizing that they both were affected by it had made him weak.  Had he temporarily lost his mind? Or had he wishfully imagined things?

 

“…I think…. I got it…”

 

Taehyun’s stiff voice broke the silence, and with a simple nod Minho pulled back. The distance made him suddenly feel cold, but his burning cheeks made up for the lack of warmth. This was absolutely not what they should be doing or how he should be feeling. But whenever he tried to think of something else, all he could hear was Seungyoon’s last words when they had parted: “You might be in this too deep”.

 

Was his friend right? Seungyoon always was the smarter of them, the one who could see things as they really were and the one who could so easily put all his thoughts into words. In comparison, Minho knew that he could act rather stiff and instead of sounding smart and reflected just come off as a bit harsh and stiff. To hell with this, he had just been surprised! Taehyun had been surprised. That was all there was too it. Nothing more. Nothing at all.

 

“Oh yeah? Good. Let’s make a couple more and then pack them up before we go.”

 

They continued in silence, but Minho couldn’t help checking on Taehyun every now and then, just as much as he couldn’t help but notice that he was struggling. More than once he almost reached out a hand to help him with, but in the end he didn’t have the guts to do it.

 

“Minho?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Did you… feel that just now too?”

 

“What?”

 

Minho looked up again, only to find Taehyun looking at him with a thoughtful and almost shy expression on his pale face.  It was rather adorable, and Minho wondered where he got the strength to not reach over and ruffle that always so perfectly styled hair. What was he trying to say?

 

“Just... for a second I thought that…”

 

“That what?”

 

Minho was careful with his replies, not wanting to give either of them much hope. His tone must have scared the boy too, because his cheeks turned bright red and his lips moved, but there came no sound. Taehyun looked away and Minho could see how he took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. He then turned back, a bright smile on his face and he playfully poked his elbow at Minho’s side.

 

“You just totally fell for my overflowing charms, didn’t you? Ah, I knew this would happen!”

 

Taehyun pushed some hair out of his face and winked and Minho, to which Minho could nothing but let out a laughter of relief and roll his eyes. They were back to joking, and it felt good. It felt safe.

 

“Nam Taehyun, if you get any more full of yourself, your head might blow up.”

 

“Wouldn’t that be a decent way to go?”

 

“I’d really rather you _not_.”

 

Really. Be it the cancer or a blown up head, whatever way possible, Minho would rather Taehyun lived. But he wasn’t in a position to request that, none of them was. Instead they could only joke about it and act as if it was nothing at all. Like a desperate cry for things being “normal” rather than something out of a romantic drama.

 

“Oh shut up, Minho.”

 

“You shut up. Let me finish this and go find the basket and the blankets I got yesterday?”

 

“What if I want to stay here with you?”

 

Taehyun cupped his head in his hands and batted his long eyelashes at Minho with the utmost conviction. Did he have to be so utterly ridiculous? Minho rolled his eyes again gave the boy’s forehead a little flick of his finger.

 

“Do you want us to get to Yeoido by noon, or do you want to stay here all day instead?”

 

His words still didn’t seem to convince Taehyun, but the boy left the room with a little whine and a scoff of his shoulders. Was he using aegyo, was that it? If so, then it absolutely did not suit him. Even if it was utterly adorable, Minho tried to force himself into believing that he hated it and it was nothing special. He couldn’t let it be special. They couldn’t be anything special. And dangerous as it was, Minho had started to suspect that Taehyun had made that conclusion as well, but was fighting it.


	7. A Mad Tea Party

As Minho pulled over to the giant parking lot by Yeoido subway station he praised himself lucky they didn’t have to go there on a weekend. With the recent good weather and the cherry blossoms in full bloom it would have been practically impossible to find a parking lot, not to mention pushing a wheel chair through the crowds. Because however healthy Taehyun had seemed to be lately, Seungyoon’s words about his health was still playing on repeat in Minho’s head. And a promise was a promise: Taehyun had said himself that he would use it. There was no point in him wearing himself out on something as simple as watching cherry blossoms. The poor boy had much worse things to worry about than that. Minho caught a glimpse of Taehyun in the rearview mirror and had to hide a smile. Why did something as simple like this make him seem so happy?

 

“Do you like it that much?”

 

“Just look at it!”

 

Taehyun’s excitement was almost contagious, and the smile Minho had been struggling to hide from before had unknowingly crept onto his face. He was even smiling while putting the big backpack on his pack and taking out the wheelchair from the backseat of the car to set it up. How was it that someone who had once been totally and completely unlikable just turned into the most endearing kid? It really made no sense, but Minho had other worries than to figure it out. Like their little moment earlier that morning. What had that been about? The way their eyes had met, the way being so close had made his heart race, it was starting to become too much. Was he really getting attached? Turning his head, Minho looked up as Taehyun climbed out of the car and couldn’t help the pang of fear and guilt he felt when he looked at him. Inside the safety of their house he didn’t seem that bad, but under the bright sunlight Taehyun’s sun seemed so pale it was almost translucent and you could clearly see the blue of the veins on his neck and hands.

 

“The chair is ready for you, your majesty,” Minho joked, taking a step back and giving Taehyun an obviously over exaggerated bow. To which the boy grimaced and ran a hand through his long hair.

 

“Do I have to? It’s not like I can’t walk!”

 

Minho couldn’t help but send the boy a stern look and to give the wheelchair a light tap. A promise was a promise.

 

“I am fully aware. But I refuse to listen to your complaining if you get tired after walking for five minutes. This way is better, and I get some exercise pushing you around.”

 

“…are you calling me fat?”

 

A loud snort managed to escape Minho’s lips, and he shook his head. Fat was the last thing Taehyun was.

 

“Look, just do it for me? I will keep me for worrying too much over bringing you out here in the first place.”

 

Hesitation lingered on Taehyun’s face for a few seconds, then he nodded and sat down in the chair in silence. He even lifted up his big camera from his lap to let Minho put a blanket over his legs. Why so obedient?

 

“Everything alright?” Minho asked quietly, giving Taehyun’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze before stepping behind the wheelchair and starting to push it towards the paved path leading down towards the Han River. Cherry trees stood along the road as far as you could see, creating a pink blanket of what was normally just dull concrete. It was a nice change from their regular scenery, and since pushing the wheelchair kept him safely out of Taehyun’s glance, he could look at and think about whatever he wanted. Not that he couldn’t normally, but when the looks and thoughts centred around the same person it was always difficult to look at him (or be looked at).

 

”I just don’t like how sick the chair makes me seem…” Taehyun’s voice was low, not his usual confident tone. If he was that moody, staying at home might have been safer… but judging by their morning, it hadn’t been so bad.

 

”Oh nonsense! It just makes you seem lazy!”

 

”Is that supposed to encourage me?”

 

Minho simply shrugged his shoulders and pushed them down along the row of blooming cherry trees. Clearly both of them had a lot on their minds, because the descend down towards the Han River was made in silence. The only sound that broke through it was the soft noise of the wheels of the wheelchairs against the pavement and every now and then a click from Taehyun’s camera. When had he even packed it out?

 

“It’s not like I have much time to enjoy the pictures,” Taehyun started quietly and instantly Minho’s grip on the wheelchair tightened. “But what if this is my last chance? I think I would like to look at it again, even if only through pictures-…”

 

The wheelchair came to a complete stop and Minho reached out and gently rubbed Taehyun’s shoulder. Those words had clearly hit a nerve, because he felt weak and sad and devastated all at the same time. Had he could, Minho would have cried just because everything was just too dumb and sad. To his surprise, he felt a cold hand wrap around his own, Taehyun offering his own kind of silent care. They hadn’t said anything or even looked at each other, but they both clearly felt the weight of such words. _This could be the last._ If it would be or not, only time would tell. But just the idea of this being the last time... Last time for both of them to see the cherry blossoms together, last time for Taehyun to see the blooming and last time for Minho to look at Taehyun while the flowers bloomed. Ironic, since it was also the first time, even if it didn’t feel like it.

 

In the end, it was a stranger breaking their silence; a older woman out with what seemed to be her husband asked Minho if he could take a picture of them for her. Falling into his normally very outgoing and friendly ways, Minho agreed heartily and took around five pictures just for good measures. He also agreed when the woman’s husband offered to take a picture of the two of them together. Taehyun seemed to want to hand over his monster of a camera, but Minho shook his head in protest and just handed the man his cell phone instead. They were asked to pose for the camera, and he felt a sudden tug at his hand to place it where it had been before: resting on Taehyun’s shoulder while holding onto the boy’s hand. He tried to protest, but was interrupted by a little squeal from the older man. It turned out he had filmed the little moment instead, and after showing how to do it properly, Minho and Taehyun were back in their awkward but comfortable position, and the older man took a picture of them. At least the two of them together wouldn’t be a last. They’d stay together till the very end.

 

After about 30 minutes walk Taehyun peeked over his shoulder at Minho and gave a little smile as he scratched his pale cheek. “Uhm… I’m kind of getting hungry…” The look on his face made Minho’s heart tighten like it had before, but now he didn’t panic. Instead he felt strangely warm and fuzzy and he wondered if the sun was getting to his head (even though it wasn’t too strong that day). But what could he do? Giving a little nod, he looked around for a nice spot to settle down and decided on the grass not too far from the river where a lonely cherry tree stood in full bloom. Some shade would be good, and it wasn’t all that far from the car if something happened.

 

Not long after he had settled them up on a big blanket, food nicely spread out in front of them and the rest of their stuff (and the wheelchair), pushed halfway behind the tree. As Taehyun said; “there was no need to be reminded of it and feel bad.” He was absolutely right. They should just enjoy the day, wasn’t that why they were here? Eating, relaxing, not stressing over anything at all.

 

“Do you think I can come see this again next year?” Taehyun’s voice was quiet as he spoke, and he stretched out a hand up towards the sky. After devouring most of the kimbap they had made that morning and shared a chocolate, they’d both laid down head to head on the blanket, faces turned upwards. “I’m sure you will,” Minho answered, moving a bit. They were stepping onto forbidden turf again, and he still felt extra aware of it today.

 

“I’m sure… You’re stronger than you think”. He turned his head to the side, looking at Taehyun’s profile: pale skin, slanted eyebrows and dark eyes. His brown hair gleamed in the sun as it messily was pushed out of his face and he was biting his bottom lip in a way that made butterflies flutter around in Minho’s stomach.

 

“I don’t know… I like to think that, but you can’t help feeling weak and helpless a lot of the time too.” Taehyun shifted a bit, rolled over on his side and Minho could practically feel blood rush to his face at how close they now where. Like a mirror he could also tell Taehyun was a bit taken aback by it, because an uncharacteristic pink shaded his white cheeks.

 

“…You make me feel more helpless.”

 

“What was that?” Minho sucked in a deep breath, realizing just then that he had held his breath since Taehyun had turned around.

 

“Being with you make me feel helpless,” Taehyun repeated, reaching out a hand and gently touching Minho’s cheek. It was such a soft, faint touch it was almost as if he wasn’t really touching at all, but the impact was immense. All of Minho’s emotions from before bubbled up on the surface and he had to close his eyes shut to try and concentrate on not crying. “Don’t say that,” he mumbled, turning his head back and putting a hand over his eyes.

 

“You’re not the one who should be saying that, I should.”

 

“Why? Why should you say it? I’m the one who’d dying, and I’m the one who has to leave in the end!”

 

“Well, I have to watch you die, not able to do anything to help you!” Minho’s voice had been sharper than he intended and he sat up, refusing to turn towards Taehyun. Wasn’t he being too selfish? He had no right to feel helpless… Up until now, hadn’t he done his very best?

 

“I-…” For a split second Minho thought Taehyun would yell back at him, much like he always did. Instead he heard the boy move and suddenly he felt his heart beat faster in his chest as slender arms lipped around his waist and Taehyun carefully placed his head on Minho’s shoulder. “I had gotten so used to the idea of dying, it didn’t felt like anything mattered. But then you just show up in my life and treat me like an actual person, and it makes me so mad, and hurt, and upset that I can’t be the person you want me to be. You make me want to live, and suddenly the idea of dying really scares me again.”

 

Minho felt his shoulders tremble, and something hot and wet trickled down his cheeks. He had been trying so desperately to deny that he truly cared and that he would be fine to move on when Taehyun wouldn’t be there anymore. But he couldn’t do it anymore. This sudden honesty, the pain and hurt he had felt ever since this morning hit him at full force and now he really was helpless. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he sobbed quietly, welcoming Taehyun’s warm embrace and clinging to it as if it was a life jacket. He didn’t want to loose him, didn’t want to be forced to see him wither away in front of him and then send him off like it had been just another job. “I don’t want to… to… to send you away!” Minho sobbed, turning his head and nuzzling his face against the warmth of Taehyun’s neck.

 

Who had he been trying to fool all this time? He must have been mad to even try. Because whatever it was he had tried to tell himself, he couldn’t escape the truth anymore:

 

_He loved Nam Taehyun._


	8. The Queen’s Croquet Ground

“Taehyun, it’s okay. Wake up!” Minho cooed quietly as he gently shook Taehyun’s shoulder. A bit like the weather outside, the boy’s mind and dreams seemed to be brewing up a storm. Or maybe the weather had affected him? His tossing and turning, accompanied with soft whimpers had distracted him from trying to clean up the remains of their dinner. Thanks to how he was now so very easily distracted by Taehyun, Minho had forgotten the pasta sauce a bit too long, and it had ended up getting burned. Not his best moment in the kitchen, but it had been quickly forgotten. Actually, after that day out, a lot of things had easily been forgotten or tucked safely into a drawer they quietly had agreed not to open. Thankfully Minho’s tears had been put away there too.

 

“You’re just dreaming! Taehyun, wake up,” he repeated, shaking his shoulder a little bit harder. It was scaring him how distressed Taehyun’s face looked. What invisible enemies was he fighting in his sleep? Wasn’t the demons he had to face when awake more than enough? Even if he didn’t talk about it, Minho could tell. Recently he had been lacking energy, eating less or just throwing the food back up. The weight loss that was starting to become evident even on Taehyun’s face and the purple-ish circles under his eyes made his pretty and delicate face seem almost hollow. He was getting worse, and however much Minho wanted to avoid the truth, he was a professional after all. And he had seen this happen before.

 

With a little yelp Taehyun opened his eyes and looked bewildered around for a split second. Then he reached out his slender arms and wrapped them around Minho, pushing against him as if that was the only thing that could help him. ”You  were going away,” he sopped, body still trembling and his skin damp from sweat. Exactly what had he been dreaming about to get this worked up over it?

 

”Hey… I’m here. Shh… I’m here, it’s okay. No one is going anywhere.” Except someone was going somewhere. Taehyun was slowly walking down a path that kept leading him further and further away. But that was also something fit for that secret drawer they didn’t talk about. It was better for both of them if it stayed there, so Minho just put his arms around the boy as well and gently stroked his hair.  ”I thought you said you were tired. Why is your mind acting up?” Taehyun didn’t reply, just buried his face against Minho’s warm chest, apparently trying to calm himself down. This poor kid. As if seeing himself fade away in the mirror every day wasn’t enough, now his mind had to start forcing it onto him too?

 

“Do you want to tell me about it? Talking about a dream prevents it from coming true, doesn’t it?”

 

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

 

However much of a whimper Taehyun’s voice was, it was still not void of his overly characteristic sarcasm. When that disappeared completely too, that’s when he’d have to really start worrying about him. When everything that made Taehyun the Taehyun Minho knew disappeared would they still be able to continue as they were? If anyone found out how strongly attached he had become his job would surely be in jeopardy. First rule of this line of work was to not get too attached, and he had broken that within the first week. And Minho had kept breaking the rules daily ever since then. Even now he was allowing himself to go miles and miles past the fence he’d normally put up between himself and his patients.

 

“Just trying to comfort you…”

 

“You already are.”

 

As he spoke, Taehyun pulled slightly away and looked at Minho with a face that made him want to hold him tight again. His eyes were red and puffy, his eyebrows slanting so low they didn’t seem far from touching at the top and there were dark, purple-ish circles under his eyes. What was it he had said earlier? He had dreamed of Minho going away? Was that so bad as to make him cry? Wouldn’t it make more sense if it was fear of dying?

 

Minho wrinkled his own brows and carefully wiped Taehyun’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Then why do you still look so upset?” he muttered, the closeness making him feel the trembling in Taehyun’s body as the boy tried to suppress his sobs. “You were going away. You left me all alone, and you didn’t even tell me why,” he croaked. His dark eyes fluttered close and he turned his head more against Minho’s hand, his lips gently brushing against it. Was he aware of what he was doing, or was it a spur of the moment thing? Minho couldn’t help but question everything either of them did, all the small, somewhat subtle things that had become more and more evident since their outing in the park. Since he so foolishly had broken down and cried like a baby.

 

“Did you even question me why? I don’t have a reason to leave.” _You are leaving me first._

 

“Because I was sick. Because you thought it was better for you to not see me die.”

 

Die. A word that felt much like having a bucket of ice water poured over you. Minho grimaced and lightly squished Taehyun’s cheeks. “I told you, I’m not leaving. I’m right here. So don’t waste tears or worry on me. I’m not worth that much.” He swallowed, waited for a reaction, but instead just got a dark glare from Taehyun. What? It was true. All he did and felt would disappear anyway, wouldn’t it?

 

“So then why did you cry?”

 

The question hung heavily in the air and Minho’s arms dropped down. Hadn’t they quietly promised never to talk about that? “Uhm…” What was he supposed to say? “You know, you should stop pretending by now and just accept it?” Taehyun sat up so he was more or less sitting in Minho’s lap, preventing him from leaving. “You keep denying it, laughing away whatever little I might say, but we shouldn’t just act like there’s nothing!” A bright red color was slowly spreading on the boy’s cheeks as he spoke, and he seemed more than ready to launch a punch if he had to. It was unfair of him to bring this up now, especially because his red eyes and fragile appearance made Minho want to hold him.

 

“Then what should we do?” he cleared his throat and reached out to scratch the back of his neck. What did he have to do to make Taehyun understand that they simply shouldn’t push it any further? “Don't you understand?”

 

He didn’t understand. Minho could tell by the way Taehyun looked at him. Either he didn’t understand, or he just wouldn’t understand. If it was the first, then Minho felt honestly sorry for him. Their situation was complicated enough. But if was the latter, then he was leaning more towards anger. If he really did understand how admitting to the truth would mean hurt and pain to the bitter end, yet kept pushing for it, wasn’t that just selfish? Then it felt like he was just pushing for Minho to feel as much pain as he would. When Taehyun… when he left, he wouldn’t feel pain anymore, but Minho would be left with an emptiness inside him that he’d rather not think about.

 

“I do understand! I understand better than you, dumbass! I also understand that we’ll both regret it if we just let it go like this!”

 

Minho’s eyebrow twitched and without even realizing it, his grip on Taehyun tightened. He knew, he understood what it was expected of him to say, what he would regret not saying. But he also knew that it would make everything just that much more difficult. “Taehyun…” he tried to make the warning evident in his voice, but it seemed no avail. The stubbornness was too visible in Taehyun’s dark eyes, not to mention the way his jaw clenched as they looked at each other. This would not go down without a fight.

 

“No! Don’t tell me to ignore it! I thought I might be the only one, but I’m not. I was fine with the thought of dying, and then you just waltz into my life and ruin everything! And even worse, we have to pretend like everything is still perfectly fine when it clearly isn’t!”

 

“Well what would you have me do?!” Minho blurted out the words much more forcefully than he meant to. Once again Taehyun had gotten the better of his emotions and pushed him to the point where his irrational, selfish side kicked in. Why couldn’t he be childish and selfish for once too?  He wasn’t the one dying, but he was the one who had to remain there, alone. Wasn’t this just turning into a rerun of their argument from the park?

 

Minho ran a hand down his face and let out a deep sigh. “We need to stop doing this. Taehyun, I _know_ how hard it is, trust me, I do. But if we just follow through without a second thought, what happens when time’s up? As you said, you were fine before, and now…” He shook his head. They had to work this all out somehow, because it scared him how much energy Taehyun was putting into it. That energy should be used on much more important things. “I need you to understand,” he said softly, reaching up and pushing some hair out of Taehyun’s face. “There are better things for you to use your time on than me.”

 

“But Minho… I…” No doubt, he had been surprised by how blunt Minho was. Normally Taehyun was the blunt one who poured out his emotions without a care in the world, and now it wasn’t, regardless of how roundabout Minho went to say it.

 

“No, Taehyun, I’m being serious.”

 

“But…”

 

“But nothing. End of discussion, end of this. Do I really have to do something drastic to make you understand?” Drastic as in changing jobs. As in forcing himself to leave to prevent Taehyun from worrying too much. The only downside of that scenario being that if the boy cared as much as he claimed to be doing, he might be more upset than anything if Minho left. And if that was the case… Could he even leave?

 

Standing up Minho ran a hand down his face again and sighed. Just what did he have to do to make Taehyun understand every little bad thing that would come out of going with their feelings?

 

“Why did you wake me up if this was all we were going to talk about?” Taehyun’s voice was sharp, and he looked even more drained of energy than he had when Minho first woke him up.  There was also a hint of the old Taehyun in his voice, because it sounded much like it had the day they first met and he had seemed absolutely uninterested in everything and everyone.

 

“At least this conversation you can walk away from.”

 

The coldness in his own voice surprised Minho, and before he could see or hear the response to it, he marched out of the room and closed the door behind him.  The distance, however small it was, felt nice and he let out a deep sigh. If anything, he wanted to cry again, curl up in his own bed and cry until there was nothing left. Maybe if he did, would he safely be able to escape his own emotions?

 

Nam Taehyun was slowly becoming his disease, and he doubted there would be a cure for it either.  Maybe Seungyoon had been right when he said that they should talk more, since Taehyun never spoke truthfully about his pain anymore, but talking was becoming a dangerous territory too. 

 


	9. The Mock Turtle's Story

Song Minho.

 

That was the name he’d first given, that day when he showed up at the door and asked for Mr. Nam. He had seemed so sure he would see and old man and not the young one who had greeted him. Taehyun could perfectly remember the moment; how he had felt a bit upset that his new nurse had been someone young and healthy like that. In the past they had all been chubby ahjummas with warm smiles or younger girls fresh out of university with a dream of giving him hope.

 

Hah, how many of those had he made cry already? 

 

They were all easy to figure out and to push in whichever direction he wanted, but Song Minho… Song Minho was a bit of a mystery, a like a book in a language he wasn’t quite sure he understood. One day he would seem like the nicest person in the world and the biggest pushover. Then he’d go all bossy and demand silly things of Taehyun, like… like doing laundry.  Just the thought of that day made him smile fondly and he leaned further back in his pillows. His eyes rested for a minute on Minho’s sleeping form in the chair next to the bed, then wandered off towards the window.

 

Last week had been so full of arguments and hurt. They had hardly been speaking at and then Taehyun had suddenly gotten worse. And in the blur of doctors, nurses and hospital it had been impossible to say if Minho had been there or not. But of course he had been. And of course he was still there. Clouse enough for Taehyun to touch him if he just reached out a hand, but he held himself back.

 

“You big idiot…”

 

Yes, Minho was an idiot. An idiot for opening up so easily, for sharing every little thing about himself and for constantly giving in to the requests of his patient. Like that time when he had agreed to go to the Cherry Blossom Festival, had cried and also started to slowly tear Taehyun’s already frail heart into tiny pieces. He had tried then to make the other be more honest about his feelings, and yet nothing. And so they had fought, and Taehyun had refused to give in until he got what he wanted. Only Minho was being an ass and refused to give in. And it had been so frustrating that he’d wanted to show his pillow down the other’s throat.

 

Right now was different.

 

“Minho?” Taehyun said softly, brushing his hair out of his face and trying to sit up. Why was his energy so drained? How long had he even been out? It felt like it had just been a few hours, but judging by Minho’s messy hair, wrinkly clothes and dark circles, it must have been much longer. 

 

“Minho…”

 

This time he actually moved in his chair, and Taehyun felt almost hopeful just at the sight. If he could just hear what it was that had been happening, why he was at the hospital still and not at home...

 

Home…?

 

When Minho had first come to stay with him, the rooftop apartment had felt nothing like home. Perhaps a little more at home than it did when he was home with his mother and brother who'd fret, try to avoid him and act like he couldn't even manage going to the bathroom on his own. But certainly not as warm and welcoming as it should be. Not until they were two staying there, and  Minho brought so much of himself with him and so openly shared it all. What had Taehyun ever given back to him? Sarcastic comments and a whole lot of furstration?

 

Minho stirred again, this time slowly opening his eyes and turning a bit to look over his shoulder as if he expected the one who had woken him up to be standing there. Then his tired gaze flickered back towards Taehyun and all of a sudden he seemed wide awake. His dark eyes started to gleam in the dim light and in an instant he had straightened up in his seat and was holding onto Taehyun’s hand.

 

“…hyun….”

 

Minho's voice is barely audible and the way he looked so utterly distressed and broken makes a cold hand of fear close around Taehyun’s heart. “Minho, what…?” he asked carefully before sucking in a deep breath, even his toes curling up in worry.

 

A part of him doesn’t even want to hear it.

 

If Minho is this worried, and if he is so close to tears just by seeing him wake up, then it had to be bad. Really bad.

 

“Why won’t you ever tell me you are hurting?” A few tears trickle down Minho’s cheeks, and the hand in Taehyun’s chest is squeezing his heart harder than before. He wants to reach out and brush the tears away, but his arms feel so heavy he is scared he won’t even be able to move them.

 

“I got used to it…”

 

“Used to it?! Taehyun!”

 

Minho looks all the more distressed and he bends his head down, lightly leaning it against their entwined hands. “You fainted. And you… you wouldn’t wake up!” Taehyun looks full of fear mixed with surprise as Minho’s shoulders start shaking as cry gets the best of him. It is even worse than when he cried out in the park, because there is a certain hopelessness about him that makes Taehyun’s eyes burn as well. Is it really that bad?

 

“You… you’ve been out for three days, they said I should prepa-…. Prepare for the worst! Taehyun, I don’t want to prepare for the worst! I don’t want to lose you!”

 

Prepare for the worst? For just a second the whole world seems to be spinning and is pretty sure he can see a dark silhouette by the door, beckoning for him to come closer. So it is time for him to leave now, is it? But how can he leave when there is someone holding on to him like this? Taehyun blinks away a few tears that has made their way into his eyes and then slowly lifts his hand so he can stroke Minho’s head. It was difficult for him to keep calm, because watching his nurse, his best friend, his only friend, break down like this really started to terrify him. He didn’t want to die now! He wasn’t ready at all! And yet a tiny voice deep inside whispered to him, asking him if it wouldn't be quite lovely to finally, after all these years, be free of the pain.

 

“I don’t… want to!”

 

Just this short comment made Minho sob louder, his whole body crouched over because of how hard he was crying. It was almost difficult to understand that another person could cry with such force for him, but he did. They had talked about this so many times before, like that day in the park, but there had never been such urgency to it. Or perhaps it had, but Minho had been the only one to realize it? Wasn’t that why he had refused? Had he been right to refuse? Seeing the pain in Minho’s face was finally what it took for Taehyun to realize why he had tried to hold back all those times. Out of the two of them, he was the one who would be left to deal with the pain and the loss. Taehyun, he… he’d just die, and that was that. It was a horribly cold, sad and lonely thought. But at least when he died that was the end of it. He had been clinging so desperately to Minho through this all, but in the end all he could offer up was pain and heartbreak.

 

The weight in the bed changes a bit and only then does Taehyun realize that Minho has moved from sitting in the chair to sitting on the bed. Straining himself just a little, Taehyun moves to the side to offer more space, and Minho takes it instantly. His strong arms wrap around Taehyun’s slender frame as he lies down next to him and pulls him to him.  The warmth makes Taehyun shiver, and he feels so strangely helpless where he lies, Minho's whole body still trembling with cry.

 

“I don’t want you to either.” His voice is so heartbroken that Taehyun lets out a little sob and presses his face against the warmth of Minho’s neck. It hurts so much that they only now can be a little bit more honest with each other, and it hurts that even if they are honest, the unspoken words still remain the same. Song Minho is still an unreachable star he cannot quite reach.

 

At one time Minho had said Taehyun had been so impossible to reach out to, that he was becoming too distant for regular people to even dare to talk to him. But Minho had been the unreachable one. Not to other people perhaps, but for Taehyun he had always danced just out of his reach, teasing his feelings and his whole existence without as much as noticing at first. Minho was the one who hadn’t understood how hard Taehyun had tried to make him notice him, who never realized that every tantrum he threw had been to make him notice him. Even if it was just to be scolded, to be carefully lead back to bed or to be able to sit watching Minh's back as he cleaned up whatever mess Taehyun had made, it was all to catch his attention. His efforts... had truly paid off more than he could ever dare to dream it would.

 

“I thought… I thought you wouldn’t wake up again.”

 

Minho’s voice sounded just as heartbroken as he had looked before, and Taehyun closed his eyes tight shut. He didn’t want to have to admit to the fact that this really could be the end. He rather wanted to stand up and scream and shout. But just the thought of standing up made his body ache. Where had all his energy disappear to? He had been fine... just a few days ago.

 

”Minho, don’t…”

 

Thinking about dying, admitting that it was finally the end...

 

”If we could change places, I would.”

 

”And leave me behind?!”  Taehyun was shocked at what he heard. He curled his hand into a fist and lightly started hitting Minho’s chest.  ”Idiot! Do you think that would change anything?” Minho grabbed his hand, holding it against his warm chest, and Taehyun could feel just  how fast his heart was racing.

 

”You’d be okay without me. You would manage to live on without me.” What was Minho getting at?

 

”How can you say that?!”

 

”…I… love you too much.”

 

Time seemed to stand still then and it felt like he couldn’t breathe. Had Minho really… had he really said that? Had Minho just… Pulling apart so he could see the other’s face, Taehyun carefully put a hand to his cheek. Their eyes met, but none of them seemed to be able to speak. Least of all Minho, who blushed and remains silent, eyes red and swollen from tears. Was this what they had been reduced to? Two hopeless men with no chance of putting all the pieces back together? Sucking in a deep breath Taehyun nuzzles his face against Minho's chest and lies as still as he can. 

 

Minho loved him, and he couldn't even be happy about it. How cruel was this world?


	10. The Lobster Quadrille

Doctors and close family only. The sign alone pressed a sight through Minho’s lips and he leaned forward in his chair, arms on his knees. This was, of course, the natural outcome. The fact that he had been able to visit earlier had been a miracle in itself and he was perfectly aware that he could no longer expect special treatment. Technically, now that Taehyun was admitted to the hospital, he was no longer his nurse and he could no longer expect the certain privilege that had come with it sooner. Like being able to always spend time together, or even just knowing at all times what kind of state the boy was in. No he had a few hours of “visiting hours” every day, he had to practically beg nurses and doctors for any kind of information and he absolutely hated it. Minho liked his order, liked to know what was going on. And so when he didn’t have that control anymore, it became so much harder to keep himself together.

 

“Mr Song?”

 

A voice he faintly recognized, but couldn’t place until he looked up. What met him was the sight of a small, stern looking woman, backed by a tall boy with similar facial features as Taehyun. But perhaps a bit rounder?  “Ah! Mrs Nam!” he blurted out, cheeks lighting up in a subtle pink as he stood up. Rubbing his hands at the back of his jeans, he held one out to shake the older woman’s hand, but she simply stared at it without taking it.

 

“We appreciate what you have done for our Taehyun. But as you might have realized, your services are no longer necessary. “

 

“Yes?” Minho blinked, mouth hanging open at the sudden notice, gaze falling on the envelope in the woman’s hand. Judging by the size of it, there would be a check inside of it, a check with enough money for him to not mind the matters of the Nam family any longer. “But Taehy-… But Mr….” He swallowed again, mouth feeling dry as he struggled to find the right words to say. What could he say? Heck, what was he even supposed to call Taehyun? ‘Mr’ didn’t seem quite right, and just ‘Taehyun’ didn’t seem quite formal enough in front of the boy’s mother and brother.

 

“Since your services are cancelled early, we have included inconvenience fee. We hope it is enough for you to not go around saying strange things or spreading weird rumours regarding our son.”

 

“Rumours Ma’am? “ Dark eyes moved from mother to son, the latter looking suddenly embarrassed and shuffled a few steps backwards, eyes on the ground. What were they talking about? What would they know about… about what had happened? And why would it be a bad thing?

 

“Mr Song. Do we really have to spell it out for you? Please stay away from our son for now.” The woman thrust the check into Minho’s hand with surprising force and then she pulled a handkerchief from her purse and thoroughly dried her hands on it. “Stay away from him!” Her disgust seemed to yell “end of discussion” and Minho was simply too tired and worried about Taehyun to take up the fight then and there. That didn’t save him from being angry, though, and he slowly curled up the envelope in his hand as the woman walked away. The boy, Taehyun’s brother, seemed prone to leave too, but he hesitated, eyebrows slanted in a way so much alike his hyung’s that Minho’s heart clenched. “…Please don’t listen to her,” he mumbled quietly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he was still unsure if what he was doing was right or wrong. “Hyung, he… he’s only really calm if he talks about you. He seems much more peaceful then, so… don’t listen to what mom says. She’s just stressed too!”

 

“Donghyun?”

 

The woman’s voice broke through their conversation, and the boy looked over his shoulder and gave a little nod. “I’ll let you know when she’s not there, so… so go see him as much as you can, okay?” Without waiting for an answer he pressed a note into Minho’s empty hand before jogging off after his mother. Both of them leaving Minho at a loss of words and two very different notes in his hands. On one side, yes, he should respect the wishes of the family. This had only been a job from the beginning too, hadn’t it? But… but Donghyun was family too. And he had told him to see Taehyun. That had to count for something too, and he should be able to listen to that too, right?

 

Letting out a little groan, Minho pushed both notes into his pocket after fishing out his cellphone before dumping back in his seat. This was getting beyond confusing and complicated. Couldn’t he just spend time with Taehyun as he pleased? They didn’t have much time left together either way.

 

Fingers moved across the screen of his smartphone, thumb hovering over the message button when a message ticked in.

 

_‘Why the long face?’_

 

Seungyoon. Minho furrowed his brows at the message before looking up, gaze screening the hallway to both sides of him, landing on a tall, gangly person in a white doctor’s coat. The person lifted his hand in greeting and the dumb smile made Minho want to throw a punch at his friend.

 

“Yo!” Seungyoon chuckled, sitting down in the chair next to Minho, placing his hand on his shoulder in what could only be meant as comfort. “How are you holding up? I heard about…” The regular playfulness in the younger’s face was shaded with worry, and Minho could practically feel the other trying to analyse him not only as a friend, but as a doctor.

 

“Well, they fired me, for once. So I am nothing but a drifter from today on,” Minho said ironically, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. His lips curled in a bitter grin and he could practically feel the check burn through the fabric of his jeans. “As for Taehyun…. I have no idea. Do you know anything? I… I can’t seem to find out anything.” And not knowing was even worse than actually knowing all the details. If he at least knew a bit more, he could make sure he had time to do and say all he wanted, he could offer up proper support, he could… He could be there. That was most important.

 

By his side, Seungyoon was grimacing, fighting his own internal battle. “Minho, you know I can’t share information about patients… “ he warned, their eyes meeting for a short moment that ended in him clearing his throat and looking away. If the situation hadn’t been so grave, maybe Minho would have smiled at how obvious Seungyoon was being, but not now. Now he just wanted, no, needed to know what was going on. “Don’t doctor me now, Kang,” he warned, rubbing his knees in a restless manner. “It’s been a week and I hardly know anything! God knows Taehyun himself will tell me anything the few times I see him, I… Just answer me this one thing, okay? How long?”

 

Seungyoon seemed even more uncomfortable than before and he shifted in his chair, putting one long leg over another. “Are you sure you want to know?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“A few weeks. A month, top.”

 

A muscle in Minho’s jaw tensed and he felt the familiar burning in his eyes. A few weeks! That was even less than he had anticipated. Time was really starting to run out, and he was just sitting in a stupid chair waiting as that precious time slipped away? How could he do such a thing? How could he do that to Taehyun? Minho’s chest tightened and the dull pain he had felt there before intensified, gradually getting so bad that a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

 

“Minho, look…” Seung Yoon’s hand was on his shoulder again, but Minho just shrugged it away.

 

“How could you not tell me? How could you…? You said you’d try to help him, and you’ve done nothing! You’re just throwing us all down the stupid rabbit hole, not even knowing when we will hit the bottom!” A few passing patients and visitors stopped and turned at the rumbling voice yelling at the poor resident doctor who had been unlucky enough to give him whatever bad news he had been told to share.

 

“It’s not in my job to decide-…”

 

“You know how I feel! Don’t give me that!” Minho’s whole body was shaking now, the spark of anger that had been lit by Taehyun’s mother and the check now firing up into an inferno at his friend’s words. “You’re just as bad as the rest of them!”

 

“Look, now that isn’t fair! I’m just doing my job!” Even Seungyoon sounded annoyed now, and he stood up, standing in front of Minho and grabbing onto his shoulders. “I’ll do what I can, okay? But I can’t promise anything. My job is on the risk for this already by just telling you, so… so stop yelling at me, you asshole!”

 

They looked up at each other then, Seungyoon’s choice of words so very unlike his character that for some reason they both smiled faintly at each other shook their heads and silently agreed upon a small truce. What else could they do? None of them had expected such a situation, none of them had ever really gotten as involved in their work, in their patients as Minho had now.

 

“I… Taehyun’s brother said he would call me when his mother wasn’t there, so… at least I should be able to go see him then? And if you…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see what I can do about you seeing him after visiting hours. Good? You are not going to bite my head off now?” Seungyoon crossed his arms almost protectively across his chest and arched an eyebrow. “Now stop bugging me, I’m working!”

 

Those words, together with the little huff of Seungyoon’s as he turned to walk away slowly made Minho’s anger melt away and fade into thankfulness. In this all, at least he had friends who cared for him. At least… at least he would be able to see Taehyun and spend more time with him than before. Reclaiming his phone and the notes he had stuffed in his pocket, he pressed in Donghyun’s number before writing up a short message:

 

_‘This is Minho. Please let me know as soon as I can come. Thank you.”_


	11. Who Stole the Tarts?

It was late. So late the halls of the hospital were only dimply lit and only a few nurses walked in and out of occupied rooms. Even more so since this was the long-term ward, the hallway Taehyun’s room was at being of the more expensive kind. Trust the Nams to get nothing but the best for their son, even till the bitter end.  Seeing the familiar name on the door made Minho hesitate in his step. Donghyun had assured him there would be no one visiting Taehyun that night, had assured him he could stay. Even Seungyoon had pressed a visitor’s card into his hand in passing earlier, muttering something about how the nurses would know when they saw. That helped.

 

However, knowing he had all night with Taehyun was far from enough. One night, what was that? If all they had were a few weeks, they should see each other every hour of every day. Minho knew he didn’t need to talk either; he just wanted to be there by his side for as long as he could. Dying was already such a lonely affair.

 

But how to go into the room? Minho’s fingers curled around the doorknob, but he hesitated, focusing on breathing slow and steady, hoping, begging he would not just break down and cry. Crying wouldn’t help. He might as well jump into it.

 

The sound of the door opening made the person there stir, a thin, familiar voice announcing that “Donghyun? Didn’t I tell you to go home? Hyung will be alright…” Where had all the life in that voice disappeared to? Even sick, Taehyun had always sounded so warm and full of life, and now… now he just sounded empty. It cut at Minho’s heart and made him falter, hesitate before closing the door behind him.

 

“Donghyun went home.”

 

“Hyung!”

 

A sudden urgency in the weak voice from before caused Minho’s heart to skip a beat. He knew that voice. Even if the pale, thin face that looked up at him was almost beyond recognition.

 

“T-taehyun!”

 

He choked, stumbled further into the room and sat down in the chair by the bed. Almost in a daze his hands reached out, cupped the unfamiliar, slender and pale face in his hands, held it with the utmost care as if he might break it. Minho felt like he couldn’t breathe at the sight, tears welling up in his eyes after all and a few trickled down his cheeks. How had it come to this? His precious boy so faint now, just a shadow of himself. Where was the boy who’d thrown the world’s biggest tantrum when he had to do laundry?

 

“Yah! Hyung, why are you crying? You idiot, don’t cry! I’m… I’m not dead yet!”

 

There he was. Minho smiled through his tears and leaned in to leave a kiss on Taehyun’s forehead. Trust this silly boy to make such stupid jokes even at a time like this. To have a snarky comment up his sleeve even if he was connected to a variety of machines and other medical equipment. “I’m not crying,” he grunted, quickly wiping his eyes before moving the chair even closer. “It smells like hospital in here.”

 

“If you didn’t notice, you’re _in_ one!” Taehyun’s voice was snarky still, but his smile was warm and happy.

 

“I know I am!” Minho ignored the tremble in his voice and reached out a still trembling hand to hold tightly onto Taehyun’s smaller, now so bony and skinny hand. “I know I am, but I keep wishing I wasn’t, that you weren’t in a hospital. I wish-…”

 

“Hyung please stop.” Taehyun’s voice was small now and he turned his head away. “I wish I wasn’t here either. This isn’t… isn’t the way I wanted to die.”

 

“Please don’t say that. Taehyun, please don’t ever say such a thing.” Minho let his head drop and stared at the floor. Tears were burning in his eyes again and if he hadn’t wanted so badly to show a bit of a stronger front to Taehyun, he would have been a complete mess. How could he have let his parents decide that they had to be apart? When they had so little time left, how could he just have turned away, defeated? Why was it that when they finally had time together again, they had to talk about something as sad as this? Shouldn’t this rather be when he distracted Taehyun and made him smile like he had in the past?

 

“But I mean it! I never wanted to just wither away in a hospital room like this!”

 

Minho cringed and brought Taehyun’s hand closer to his face so he could touch it against his cheek. “Please don’t-….” Don’t rip up these wounds that can never heal again. Please don’t step on my heart more than you must.

 

“Hyung, can you take me away from here?” The words hung in the air and at first Minho couldn’t even make sense of them. Take him away? Why would he take him away? This was the hospital, this was where all the doctors that could heal him was.

 

Only they wouldn’t. Minho had seen the medical papers, even Seungyoon had seen them and said the same thing; there was no getting out of it. Taehyun was dying, and no wishing or crying would ever undo that truth. It was just that actually coming to terms with it hurt so much Minho would rather not. “Taehyun…,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. Taking him away from the hospital? After being paid to stay away, after being warned… Could he really do that? “What about your family?” A poor, desperate attempt to distract. Just the look on Taehyun’s pale face told him it had made no difference.

 

“Donghyun…. Donghyun would understand. As for mom… I know what she told you. So do you really think I care? I just… the idea of dying in this dreary place makes me go crazy! I need to get out! I need to live, even just a little, before it all ends!”

 

Minho’s head was far from convinced, but his heart was telling him he should just give up and give in. Wasn’t his job just this though? Taking care of someone as they lived out their last days in the most comfortable way possible?

 

“Please, Minho? Please just take me home?”

 

There it was; that heart-breaking, strangely determined expression that only Nam Taehyun could put up. It made Minho squirm in his chair, and with the deepest sigh he stood halfway up and leaned in to place a soft kiss on Taehyun’s pale brow. “Fine. Fine! Are you happy now? I’ll… I’ll look into it and try to arrange something, okay? But I think going to your place would be hard, so… would you mind going to my place?”

 

For the longest time Taehyun’s expression said he didn’t believe a word that came out of Minho’s mouth. Not that he could really be blamed, because he’d been denied his wishes for the longest of times. “Mind? Of course I wouldn’t mind!”

 

To Minho’s surprise, the boy struggled to sit up and pulled him into a tight hug. How weak his embrace had become now… Minho felt his eyes burn again as he returned the hug, one hand burying into Taehyun’s soft hair. “I’ll make the preparations as soon as possible. I’ll… If this is what you want, I swear I’ll make it happen. So just… don’t you die on me yet?” The last words made Minho choke up and he bent his head down not to show his tears.

 

Taehyun had been quiet till then, but as he realized what was happening he pulled back just a little and cupped Minho’s face in his slender hands. ”Thank you so much, hyung. Thank you…” he mumbled softly before pressing his lips against Minho’s cheek, kissing away a tear. ”I’m sorry I can’t stay with you forever. I’m sorry we had to meet like this.”

 

”Don’t… don’t say that,” Minho sobs and looks up to meet Taehyun’s worried eyes. ”I’d rather meet you like this than not meeting you at all. Okay? So don’t talk to me about regret. I don’t regret anything. One way or another we’ll get our second chance, okay?”

 

\--

 

And so it was decided. After a couple of days of planning and preparing, of Seungyoon complaining up a storm about all the trouble he would be in if he was caught, the two men waited till night fell and started their little operation. A simple wheelchair prepared, lots of thick clothing, Seungyoon’s car. It had been a simple plan, but clearly simple had been just what would work. Not even after two hours after they started the plan Taehyun sat, wrapped in thick blanket in Minho’s apartment, expression more alive than he had seemed for weeks. In the hallway Minho pushed Seungyoon the thick envelope Mrs Nam had given him originally, ignoring all sorts of protests from his friend.

 

The deed was done now, and he had what he needed right there in his living room. Money would never make up for the impending loss bound to happen.


	12. Alice's Evidence

“Don’t worry and just head home first, okay?” Minho smiles and gives Seunghoon as last wave before walking up the paved pathway. The cold has everything be covered in a sparkly cover of frost and the sun is hiding behind a faint haze. Minho is wearing a black suit under his dark coat, has a small bouquet of flowers in his hands and has spent hours to get ready.  Seunghoon, his boyfriend, has always wondered why he makes such effort, also wonders why Minho never lets him come along to these strange visits of him, but he is never told exactly why. It just doesn’t seem right, doesn’t seem fair. Even after almost four years of dating, he doesn’t know everything. If they do last longer, maybe one day Minho will tell him why, once a year he goes out to the outskirts of Seoul on his own, always made up nicely and with a little bouquet of flowers. One day.

 

But it isn’t this year either. Least of all this year since it marks the tenth year since it happened. Shivering a bit in the cold, Minho hurries up his pace and hurries inside of the white, formal looking building. The reception holds a small café, some extra flowers and there are more people in black. There is always a special feel when comes there, like there is something in the air that makes it extra heavy.

 

Without even thinking, Minho takes the stairs up to the second level, walks through room after room until he comes to the right one. As always there is no one there at this time, but fresh flowers witnesses that someone has already been there to pay their respect. _Donghyun_ , he thinks and his lips curl up in a faint smile as he leaves his own flowers on the right shelf; fifth from the floor, ten rows from the right. The sight alone makes his eyes sting and his hand brushes over the glass with a tenderness that seems almost uncharacteristic for his looks.

 

“Taehyun… did you miss me?” Minho’s voice is nothing but a whisper when he speaks, but it still bounces off the walls in the empty room and come off as louder than they really are. “I… I had my boyfriend drive me again today. I think you’d like him. He’s… he’s nothing like you.” Tears burned already and his dark eyes fell on the small, framed picture that stood on the shelf together with the simple urn. A picture of him, ten years younger, smiling and an arm around Taehyun’s shoulder. Two smiles frozen in time, one he would never ever see again.

 

“I still miss you.”

 

Ten years have passed since the winter he and Seungyoon smuggled Taehyun out of the hospital. Ten years since the last couple of weeks spent in Minho’s small apartment, ten years since the happiest and saddest weeks of his life. Ten years was such a long time, but he could still, with perfect clarity, remember one of the last conversations he and Taehyun had shared.

 

\--

 

“Minho hyung…” Taehyun rolled over on his side where he lay on the sofa and looked towards Minho who was standing by the kitchen counter and preparing two light meals for them. Not that Taehyun ate much anymore, but he did try to eat just a little when he could.

 

“Hmm?” Minho finishes cutting up the cucumber, puts it in the salad and mixes it up a bit with a fork.

 

“When I’m gone…”

 

“Please don’t start every conversation like that,” Minho groans, trying to sound as if he is more tired of it than sad. Everything is sad, even if they are happy, they are sad. Conversations like these are especially sad.

 

“No, but this is different!” Taehyun protests, pushing himself up ever just a little. “This is important. Can’t you just hear me out? Please?”

 

After putting two glasses of water on the tray together with the salad, Minho brings it over to the sofa and leaves it on the table before sitting down on the floor by the sofa. “…fine. But you promised this morning that you wouldn’t cry today. So no sad stories?”

 

Taehyun nods again and reaches out a hand for Minho’s. “I was thinking-“

 

“Always a dangerous thing,” Minho chuckles and gives a little wink before reaching out too to take Taehyun’s

 

“Shut up and listen, won’t you? I… Promise me that when I’m gone… promise me you will move on?” It was obvious it hurt Taehyun to bring up something like this, but there was a determined wrinkle between his eyes that witnessed that he had thought a whole lot about this before bringing it up. “I want more than anything for you to be happy, so… promise me you will move on? You are such a great person, you… you deserve someone to love you like you’ve loved me.”

 

Whatever it was Minho had expected Taehyun to say, this was the last thing he had expected. Tears burned in his eyes and he leaned in to place a soft kiss on Taehyun’s lips. “What are you saying?” he croaked, bringing the other’s cold, thing hand to his lips to kiss it. “How can you ask me to forget you? How can I love someone like I love you? You can’t… Can’t expect me to make such a promise!”

 

There is a redness to Taehyun’s eyes too now, and it is obvious he his working hard to keep his the promise he made not to cry. “Don’t-… don’t forget me! I… I want you at least to remember, but… but don’t spend the rest of your life on your own just because of that. Someone will come along, someone will reach out their hand and at that time I don’t want you to feel like you shouldn’t take it because of me. That’s not what I want. I want you to be happy. Always.”

 

At one point in-between the tears, Minho had ended up making the promise. Somewhere in-between the heart breaking sobs he had managed to give Taehyun the “I promise” he seemed to have wanted so much.

 

\--

 

Two days later Taehyun fell asleep on the sofa as usual, only this time to never open his eyes ever again. It was Seungyoon who made all the calls, who helped prepare everything for the funeral together with Donghyun. It was Seungyoon who had found Minho curled up in the bathroom, crying so hard his whole body was shaking. The sight had made him take Minho’s phone and make all the calls before he helped his best friend down to his car and drove him to his own apartment.

 

Minho never could remember much of the following days, only short glimpses here and there through the medication-induced sleep and the never-ending tears. Actually, that whole first year was blurry and he remembered very little from it. The second year had been a little better, but he still had certain places he couldn’t go or things he couldn’t see without the loss burning another hole through his heart.

 

Another year went by and Minho started working again, slowly, and ever so slowly, falling back into the daily routine. He watched Seungyoon become a doctor, talked to Donghyun maybe once or twice a year just to keep updated and finally moved out of Seungyoon’s place and into his own apartment. Only then did he remember the promise he made to Taehyun, and only then, five years later, was he really ready to move on with the compromise to himself that he would still be allowed to keep Taehyun in his heart still.

 

He never had much hope or put in much effort to try to find someone knew, but through a strange set of coincident, Seunghoon was the one to find him.  On a New Year’s party hosted by Seungyoon, both of them had been invited, and through the crowd and noise Seunghoon had found Minho standing alone in a corner. That was how it started, a new year, a new start. When one year ended Minho had still been alone and unsure of his future, but when morning came of the New Year he wasn’t quite that alone, had a phone number scribbled down on a note in his pocket and a promise of going for a coffee the next weekend.

 

\--

 

“Maybe next year… I will bring him here. Would that be okay? He isn’t you, but… I am happy. Just like I promised, I’ve found someone who truly cares about me and… and I care about him too.” Minho dried the tears from his cheeks and smiled wider at the picture of him and Taehyun. He would never forget, and maybe it would never make any sense how fast he had fallen. That year of his life felt like a different place and a different time. Like he had been Alice, falling down a rabbit hole to Wonderland to meet one of the most fantastic people he would ever come to meet.

 

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> The names of these chapters and this fan fiction is inspired by Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
> 
> This fan fiction was written in the span of one whole year, thus if it has some details that do not match up, please be understanding.


End file.
